


More than Words

by enochiangnocchi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Plays Guitar, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 16:54:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7230817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enochiangnocchi/pseuds/enochiangnocchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quiet moment shared between Castiel and Dean Winchester. Emotions based on the song "More Than Words" by Extreme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More than Words

 

“ _It's not that I want you_  
Not to say it, but if you only knew  
How easy it would be to show me how you feel  
More than words is all you have to do to make it real “

* * *

 

 

Castiel laid in bed. For days now he couldn't rest, couldn't sleep. While he was used to there being sorrow and pain in the world, he was not as used to not be able to do anything about it. He was weak, still, and tired, and everything weighed on him. The small comfort he'd feel from lying in a soft bed didn't erase the graphic 'dreams' he'd have, or rather the vivid memories from times long ago when his orders were to sit and watch it happen. He felt guilt that the moments that brought him back into his present reality was always a memories that involved a specific face, one that would ocassionaly bring him more guilt than it would peace.

 

The pit in his stomach turned again, twitched uncomfortably as it always did when he allowed his mind to wonder too much the extent of his... 'loyalty' to such a person.

_I killed two angels this week_ He remembered saying.  _Those are my brothers. I'm hunted, I rebelled, and I did it, all of it, for You...._

Castiel remembered how furious he was, and how much like a child Dean had looked at him then. It wasn't until he'd said it out loud that Castiel realized there was some truth to the rumors that perhaps he really had gotten to close to his charge. But that was the loyalty of a soldier was it not? To willingly sacrifice everything they knew to aid their one cause, or in this case, one person, in their fight? He'd battled the demons in hell to save Dean Winchester, but after hearing his soul he couldn't be sure if he truly went after Dean because it was one of God's orders or because he truly, genuinely  _felt_ that Dean was worth saving, even if it did cost the lives of his brothers and sisters.

He felt overwhelmingly guilty again.

He was actually willing to let his family suffer so he could keep his loyalty to this Winchester person. He shook the thought from his mind. He breathed deeply and tried to focus on nothing. Slowly, and after some time, Castiel found himself not focusing on nothing per se, but fixating on his memory of being with Dean on a fishing dock. It wasn't a real memory, and he knew it, but it's what he thought of. It was calm, and peaceful, and despite the interjecting flashes of Dean's bloodsmeared face from purgatory, Castiel felt his breathing start to slow. It was just them on the dock now. The feel of the breeze on his skin, the soft guitar in the background, the sound of the gulls, the smell of Dean beside him; bergamot, suede, alpine air, leather... The tones in his voice, hoarse but soothing, when he said 'Cas'... It gave Castiel a great sense of peace to see him there, sitting back with a fishing rod in his hand.

God, that guitar was beauitful though. And the way his voice reached---

_Guitar?_

Castiel's eyes shot open.

His vision blurry, he shifted his head and squinted toward the clock that sat on his bedside table.

3:06am

Why was he hearing guitar at 3 in the morning?

He listened a little more closely, realizing that the music hadn't come from the dream, nor the soothing voice either.

He knew Sam was away for the evening wrapping up a lead, and the only other person in the bunker was... well it was Dean. Sliding silently off the bed he made his way to the door. Looking downstairs, at first he thought that Dean was watching the TV, something with music on in the background.

Castiel frowned. He knew that Dean only ever passed out on the couch when he had too much on his mind, and the Television made a nice break from the silence.

But upon closer investigation, he realized that Dean was not lying down. In fact the TV's lights were flashing some black and white scene, but no sound was coming out. Tilting his head to the side as he did, he realized Dean was not even asleep. He was rocking back and forth, to the rythym of the song coming from his guitar.

Castiel hadn't even realized that the bunker housed a guitar, let alone that Dean knew how to play one.

He couldn't make out the words, but stood, frozen. Would Dean stop if he came closer? Would he lose the chance of listening to the sound? He listened intently to the sounds of his favorite voice, and smelled the faint trail of coffee coming from the table downstairs. Castiel sank slowly agaisnt the doorframe and took a seat. He inched his way outside of the room and listened, pressed against the wall. Still drowsy with the desire to sleep, the affect Dean's music had on him was like a spell. He couldn't recall the last time he had felt so much peace.

Each note picked was precise, the sound of the brass strings hitting the wooden base of the guitar's neck leaving a short and pleasant echo. There was something so familiar about the feeling of the song, but he couldn't quite place it as so many references eluded him in this age of humanity. He did treasure it though. He was sure that in the future when he couldn't sleep, perhaps that this new memory, listening to the soft sounds of Dean's voice carry up the stairs, watching Dean rock lightly back and forth, the soft smell of Dean and his coffee, these would be the things that gave him some Calm.

Cas had no idea how long he'd been there, listening, only that he never wanted it to end. The music wasn't only soothing him, as he'd never heard Dean's voice sound so soft and... so sweet. The gruffness that came when Dean barked his orders was absent when he sang; it was still raw, but beautiful, like an intimate gift that Dean could only share with himself. It was beautiful, and the realness of it didn't come from a hunter, or a soldier, but it was the voice of someone who housed no small amount of love.

It wasn't long after realizing that Dean's peace is what brought him this own that the Angel had finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Dean sang the last few notes of the song and gently played the last chord. He grabbed the instrument by the neck and walked it over to it's normal place in the closet. Shutting it in, he shot his arms up in the air and stretched violently.

Sammy still hadn't returned yet, and Castiel was being so silent, Dean wasn't even sure that he was still there.

Dean made his way to the television and turned it off. He shuddered slightly at the cold that had settled in and picked up the blanket from the couch. Much more at ease, he felt as though trying to sleep in a bed might do him some good. Following a massive yawn, he scratched the back of his neck and began making his way across the room and up the stairs.

He was less than halfway up when he saw him.

He furrowed his brows, and frowned.

Castiel was passed out, sitting just outside of the entrance to his room, possibly freezing as all he wore weas an extra pair of Dean's boxers and one of his favorite old concert shirts.

He made his way back downstairs and into the kitchen. Grabbing a fresh mug of coffee in one hand and holding the blanket still in the other, he made his way back up the stairs. He placed the mug gently on the ground beside Cas, and placed the blanket loosely on top of his friend.

_How long has he been sitting there?_

Dean shifted uncomfortably, wondering how much or if Cas had heard, hoping he wasn't what woke him up in the first place.

“Giant baby” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. Letting his eyes linger a moment longer than he'd like to admit on Castiel's sweet, sleeping face, red nose and flushed pink lips, Dean stepped over the angel and into the next room.

Castiel stirred at the smell of the warm coffee beside him, and whimpered 'Dean' smally as he felt the hunter make his way over him. He sank further into the blankets, and smiled.

_What was that song?_

“ _More than Words”_

Yeah. That must've been it.

 

 


End file.
